Dreamland University
by Lady-Arrowwood
Summary: University AU. Kirby is certain that college will be the greatest thing that has ever happened to him. He'll get to study art, make best friends, try new things, and fight an aspiring evil overlord set on controlling the entire universe. There's that, too.
1. Conceptual

**Disclaimer:** This is fanfiction, and I am receiving no profit for these words, like most of the writerly types here on . _Kirby _and everything related belongs to people far wealthier and more talented than I.

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><p>The boy sat on the plush couch and swung his legs back and forth. His foster mother would've probably yelled at him, if she'd been around to notice; she always said he was too energetic. However, she wasn't beside him. Rather, she was arguing with the case worker. His foster mother's voice was shrill and loud, breaking past the closed door and into the hallway, where the boy sat.<p>

"I'm telling you there's something _wrong _with him! You didn't tell me that he had some sort of defect!"

Defect? Was that what it was? The boy narrowed his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Being termed _defective _probably guaranteed him a different foster home, at least. That would be quite lovely.

A soft hum entered the hallway—the case worker trying to be reasonable. The case worker never seemed angry or unruffled, which was part of why the boy really liked her. He wondered if she'd take him home, since the foster parents kept bringing him back. "He's always falling asleep in class, and by stars, I've _tried_! He just won't stay awake!"

The boy flinched. He did fall asleep in class a lot; there was no denying that. It wasn't because he _wanted _to, though. The nightmares usually kept him awake, and when they didn't, he still didn't feel like he'd slept any. "And I'm sick of trying to care for that difficult child! I'm leaving him here. He's _your _problem now! You shouldn't push kids like him off on people without letting them know there's something wrong!"

The door burst open, and the foster mother stormed past, not even glancing at the child on the bench. The boy glanced up, when he heard the clicking of heels. His case worker stood in the door. She looked at him and smiled sadly. "Well, if she's going to be like that, it's probably for the best that she brought you back, huh?"

The boy shrugged, and the case worker's face softened. "It's okay, dear. We'll find you a good family, okay? Don't lose hope."

The boy forced a smile and nodded. _A defect. _Was that really what it was?

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><p>Dreamland University was a far cry from the idyllic paradise that the brochures depicted it as. While all the advertisements displayed lush gardens, Neo-Classical architecture, and a stunning library, the reality was half-dead hydrangeas, construction, and a library covered in plywood, where the windows had been busted out during the spring semester and never replaced. Kirby, as he stood on the sidewalk, noticed none of this. He was too enamored by the small lake, sitting innocently between the library and the humanities building. It was a very pretty lake, with a large, sprawling tree beside it. If someone wanted to, he or she could sit in that tree, and it'd be very lovely to paint. Kirby filed away the memory of the place for later, for after he met someone really beautiful, who'd be willing to climb into a tree for him. Maybe that person would be his friend, too. Kirby never had friends in high school, and college was a chance to start fresh. To finally <em>make <em>friends. _Best _friends.

Kirby pulled his backpack strap up higher onto his shoulders and continued past the library. The visual arts building, his destination, was somewhere over there—past the natural sciences building. Or was it the math building? Surely, it couldn't be _too _difficult to find, could it? Kirby had fifteen minutes, after all. Maybe ten, after his pausing in front of the tree. Kirby glanced at his pink watch, even though he knew the battery was long dead. The watch was cute and had stars on it, though, so Kirby wore it anyway.

With a spring in his step, Kirby headed towards the cluster of buildings. He'd lost his map and hoped that the buildings would be labeled in some way, but that didn't seem to be the case. It was a bit puzzling, since the chemistry building had been labelled; he'd almost walked in there by mistake, before seeing the sign. The building to his right had a mural of the ocean, so he assumed it was for marine biology or something like that. That would make sense.

Kirby wandered own, pausing haphazardly in the sidewalk to admire the blush-pink azaleas. Mentally, he added the flowers to his growing list of things to paint. Along with the tree. He _would _find someone to paint in that tree. Kirby may have never had a friend in his life, but he was determined to make one. And then, make that person climb a tree.

Well, unless he or she was afraid of heights, but then, Kirby would have to make a _second _friend. That'd be okay, too.

He continued walking, until he reached a parking lot. With a frown, he turned around and looped back. There was another building. He approached it, put his hand on the door handle, and noted that there was a paper sign advertising math tutoring. Probably not the visual arts building. Okay.

Kirby turned around and trekked back towards what he had dubbed as the ocean-mural-probably-science-building. From the other direction, he could see through the front, glass doors, and it became apparent that there was some sort of fossil collection inside. _Definitely _not the visual arts building. Geology, maybe? With a sigh, Kirby admitted that he was lost and would have to ask for directions, if he wanted to find his class in any reasonable time.

Fortunately, there were many people around to ask for directions. There was a pretty brunette with friendly, green eyes, chatting animatedly with her friends. There was a stream of students, just released from classes, hurrying along the sidewalk. There was even a professor, moving calmly forward, coffee in hand. Kirby was considering asking one of them, when the sight of blue—the most _beautiful_, deep midnight blue—caught his attention.

Transfixed, Kirby stared at the student, with strands of _such pretty _berry-blue hair falling from beneath the hood of his black hoodie. The student wore dark sunglasses, making it impossible to actually decipher the color of his eyes. Kirby imagined they were silver or ice-blue and hastened towards the blue-haired student, having to almost-run to catch him. "Hi, I'm Kirby!"

The student turned around, his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. Kirby's eyes fixed on the boy's—well, more of a man, really—face. It was a nice face, even with the large, dark sunglasses. The color of a frappuchino with milk and cream, smooth, with well-defined cheek bones but with a soft, gentle jawline. _So pretty, beautiful, enchanting, perfect—_

"Oh, you're beautiful!" Kirby exclaimed. "Like an ancient statue!"

Like one of the pretty, propaganda statues of an ever-youthful senator from the Classical Pupupu civilization. "I'm…what?" the student asked.

He had a nice voice, too! Inwardly, Kirby squeaked. Like night. If night had a voice, it would sound like the lovely, blue-haired student. "Beautiful!" Kirby gushed. "It's hard to tell with your glasses on, but your symmetry looks amazing!"

"My symmetry?"

"In your face," Kirby explained. "It's hard to tell, but my left cheekbone is a _little _lower than the right one. I mean, most people are a hair uneven. But _you_—just _wow_."

The student chuckled deep in his throat. "You must not have a very high standard of beauty, if you think _I_'m beautiful," he said.

Kirby shook his head. "I'm an artist! I know what beauty looks like."

The older student tilted his head, an odd smile on his face. "An artist. I see."

"Yeah, and I—oh, crap! I'm going to be late! I wanted to ask if you knew where the visual arts building was!"

"Behind you. With the statue of Galacta Knight."

Kirby spun around and spotted the statue of the legendary, winged knight. "Oh! Thank you so much!" Kirby exclaimed, looking over his shoulder. "You're the best!"

The other student merely shrugged. "It was pleasure," he said. "I'll see you around, Kirby."

"Okay, sure, um…"

The student took off into a jog, probably in an effort to be on time, before Kirby could point out that the man had never offered his name. They might've been friends. _Best _friends. Convinced that he'd ruined his chance at having a new best friend, Kirby sighed and turned towards the visual arts building. _Oh, well, _he thought. _He said he'd see me around. That means something, right? But what if I came off too strongly? I mean, you can't walk up to random men and tell them they're beautiful, even if they are. Right? Maybe I should've been more subtle._

Unfortunately, subtlety wasn't Kirby's strong point, something he, himself, was woefully aware of. With a sudden burst of determination, Kirby squared his shoulders and adjusted his backpack again. He stepped past the bronze statue of Galacta Knight, in full armor with a heavy-looking lance, and took his first steps into the visual arts building.

It wasn't anything special, but it smelled like oil pastels and new paper. Kirby grinned. _This _was his place. Now, if he could only find room 302. He practically shouted in joy, when he found the room _just _to his right. He flung the door open wide and peered into the lecture hall. It wasn't much really—rows of chairs and attached desks, most of which were filled—but _still_, it was an art class. That meant all of the students, or at least the majority, would be _artists_.

Kirby spotted an empty seat beside a student with auburn hair and a bright blue bandana and cheerfully made his way down to him. The student looked up and smiled in a friendly way, when Kirby stopped beside him. "Can I sit here?" Kirby asked, rocking back on his heels.

"Sure! Here, I'll move over, so you can have the leftie desk."

"How did you know I was left-handed?" Kirby asked.

"Your watch," the boy said, pointing. "Right-handed people usually put it on the other wrist. Well, they used to. Before cell phones. Now most people don't wear watches at all, though."

"Oh, I know!" exclaimed Kirby. "Wow, you're really observant!"

"Oh. Thanks."

The boy hopped into another seat, and Kirby cheerfully sat in the seat closest to the aisle, and by extension, in one of the few desks that were leftie-friendly. "So I'm Kirby! What's your name?"

"Friends call me Bandana Dee," the boy said, offering Kirby a hand.

_Friends_! Cheerfully, Kirby shook the other boy's hand. "That's an awesome name! Very unique."

"Well, it's really more of a nickname. My real name is too embarrassing."

"Oh."

"So…you really like pink, don't you?" Bandana Dee asked, gesturing vaguely to Kirby's pastel pink hoodie.

Kirby nodded. "It's a happy color, so I really like to wear it. Because it makes _me _feel happy!"

Kirby paused, half-expecting Bandana Dee to make fun of him for it. That's how high school was, and Kirby might've made more friends, if he'd been less…eccentric, as Kirby's well-meaning mother once suggested. But who wanted friends that made you give up your favorite color?

"I-is that okay?" Kirby asked.

"What? Pink?"

Kirby nodded. Bandana Dee shrugged. "Sure. Why not? If you like it, you like it."

"Really?"

Kirby's stomach was suddenly filled with something warm and fuzzy. "You mean, you don't think it's really weird and want to ask if I'm gay or something? I mean, there's nothing wrong with being gay, of course. People just always assume," Kirby added.

"Oh, I know what you mean. No worries," Bandana Dee said, "And maybe the pink is a bit unexpected, but if you like it, who cares? I mean, I always wear my bandana; I have, like, thirty different ones."

"I really like the one you have on. Blue suits you," Kirby said.

Bandana Dee grinned. "Thanks."

"Everyone seems really nice!" Kirby exclaimed. "I mean, you're nice, and I met that other guy. He showed me where class was."

"Oh, yeah?"

Kirby nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah, he had _blue hair_! It looked so good. I'm thinking of dying my hair pink now; I wonder what kind of dye he uses."

"Did you catch his name?" Bandana Dee asked.

Kirby frowned and shook his head. "No, I didn't. Hm."

"Did he wear really dark sunglasses?"

"Oh, he did! Do you know him?" Kirby asked.

Bandana Dee nodded. "Yeah, that's Meta Knight. At least, he's the only bluenette I know on campus."

Kirby really liked Bandana Dee's invention of the word 'bluenette' and thought that someone with pink hair was probably a 'pinkette.' "Oh, so could you ask what kind of dye he uses, since you know him? Would he mind?" Kirby asked. "His hair is just so pretty!"

Bandana Dee chuckled. "Sure. Just don't call him pretty to his face, okay?"

"Oh, I already did!"

_Beautiful, _actually, but weren't pretty and beautiful mostly the same thing? Bandana Dee stifled laughter, and Kirby had the distinct impression that he'd ventured into some sort of inside joke. "Oh, Stars, I'm _never _going to let him live this down!" Bandana Dee exclaimed.

Kirby frowned. "Well, he didn't seem…mad."

"Oh, no, he wouldn't be mad, Kirby," Bandana Dee said. "Meta knows he's attractive; I'm sure he was very flattered. It's just that Dedede and I tease him all the time about how pretty he is, and he gets all huffy, insisting that he's a fierce, black knight type."

"Oh. So is he in the King's Guard?"

"No, nothing like that. He just tends to do, oh, knightly things. I guess. Like fencing—he's the best in school, actually."

"Oh, that's cool. So does he want to be a knight?"

Kirby had known a guy who wanted to be a knight and had done all the knightly sports—swordplay, archery, jousting, and the like. Kirby had tried swordplay, too, and actually been pretty good with a rapier. He didn't mention it to Bandana Dee, though. It wasn't like swordplay was very interesting or useful, after all. "No, I think he's less interested in being a knight and more in the idea of knighthood," Bandana Dee said.

"What do you mean?"

Bandana Dee wrinkled his nose. "The whole noble, chivalry thing," Bandana Dee said. "I don't think Meta Knight really wants to fight wars per se. I think he's more of the questing type. He wants to go on quests and do good, because it's something he believes in. When you're in the King's Guard, you have to do what the king says, even if you don't agree with it. Meta Knight couldn't do that. He's many things, but obedient isn't one of them."

Bandana Dee paused and smiled wryly, as if enjoying a private joke. Or as if he'd spoken too much and just realized it. "Don't tell him I said all that, though, okay?" Bandana Dee said.

"Of course, not!" Kirby exclaimed. "I promise!"

"Thanks," Bandana Dee said.

Kirby flashed Bandana Dee a quick smile, as the professor cleared her throat to begin class. For his first class, Kirby was doing very well. He made a friend already. College was going to be the best thing that ever happened to him!


	2. Stained Glass

**Disclaimer: Please, see the notes made in chapter one. Many thanks!**

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><p>Once upon a time, when magic dwelt in every tiny space between the stars, there was a great kingdom called Halcandra. In this kingdom, magic was especially prevalent, and the Halcandrans harnessed this magic, creating many powerful artifacts.<p>

Eventually, though, this magic became too powerful for the Halcandrans. It began to corrupt them, and the people of Dreamland, seeing the corruption, pleaded with the great King Bikaia to do something. The good king heard his people and launched a great war against Halcandra. In the end, both kingdoms suffered, but Halcandra was destroyed, its sorcerers and magic no more. At least, that's what the Dreamlanders believed.

All of them except for a precocious twelve-year-old named Magolor. Something whispered to him, like a lost fragment of himself. Somewhere in the world, something ancient and powerful called for him, and he was going to find it.

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><p>The dining hall was gorgeous, if surreal. The floors were white marble—clearly old and expensive, but the tables were black and sleek, strangely modern. There was a strange sense of displacement, as if someone had taken an ancient castle and tried to force it modern. Kirby noted it, and then, he saw the windows. They were <em>glorious<em>.

Made predominantly of rose and ivory glass, the windows depicted images of Galacta Knight. He was fierce and beautiful, his large wings slicing through the stunningly blue sky. Kirby stepped closer to the windows, basking in the light dappling onto him and the floor. He'd never seen such windows up close, so close that someone could touch them, so he'd never really experienced just how large such windows could be. Galacta Knight was easily over eight feet tall, his lance ready to pierce the golden stars. Kirby had an urge to put his hand against the ancient glass, as if to confirm that it was _real. _"Hey, Kirby, right?"

Kirby jumped and spun around. Bandana Dee grinned, his sketchbook tucked under one arm and a pizza box held in the other. "Want to join us for lunch? If you don't have friends already. If you do, that's cool, too, but I'm assuming you're a freshman and probably not from around here…"

"I'm not," Kirby said. "How did you know?"

Bandana Dee winked. "You had to ask Meta Knight where the visual arts building was, so I figured you were new to the campus. Plus, you have a bit of an accent. You're from a different corner of Popstar, yeah?"

"I am! Wow, that's really cool, how you do that!" Kirby exclaimed.

Bandana Dee chuckled, looking vaguely embarrassed. "Thanks. Here, I'll lead the way."

Kirby followed, casting a final glance at the stained glass. There were more windows along the way, and Kirby tried really hard not to stop and stare at every single depiction of Galacta Knight—leaning on his lance in one scene, facing a four-headed dragon in the next, and gazing mournfully at the moon in one. They weren't stories Kirby was familiar with.

Galacta Knight was a vastly popular figure in the legends; he had a cycle about all his great deeds, which many scholars agonized over. Kirby wasn't one of them. He knew the bare-bones version of the story, the one that parents told their children, and Kirby had been content with that. Until he saw the glass. It stirred something in him, perhaps, his inner artist, and he wanted to learn more.

When Bandana Dee and Kirby arrived at the table, there was already another occupant. It was another student, probably in his early-twenties, and he was _massive. _He was a little on the heavy side, but he was also tall and broad-shouldered. Most people might've thought him intimidating, but Kirby couldn't help but think that, with his red, fur-trimmed coat, the student looked a bit like a fluffy penguin. The older student fixed his bright, blue eyes on Kirby. "Who's your friend, Bandana Dee?" he asked.

"Kirby," Bandana Dee said, sitting across from the other student. "Kirby, this is Dedede."

"Nice to meet you," Kirby said, sitting beside Bandana Dee.

"Likewise!" Dedede exclaimed, holding his hand out.

Kirby shook his hand, noting Dedede's overly-friendly handshake and booming voice. He seemed big and friendly, like Saint Knight, who brought children presents for the Winter Solstice. Meanwhile, Bandana Dee produced plates from somewhere—Kirby wasn't watching—and proceeded to divide up the pizza. "So where's Meta Knight?" Bandana Dee asked.

"Making a coffee run. I needed something warm," Dedede said, grabbing a piece of pizza. "I told him to get your usual."

"Thank you," Bandana Dee said.

"Sure."

Bandana Dee paused. "Oh, you aren't a vegetarian or anything, are you, Kirby?" he asked.

Kirby shook his head, and Bandana Dee passed him a plate of pepperoni pizza. "Oh, thank you," Kirby said.

He was puzzled that people he'd just met were so quick to take him in and share food with him, but on the other hand, Kirby never was one to turn down free food. "Oh!" Dedede exclaimed. "You need something to drink! Hold on; I'll text Meta. What do you like, Kirby?"

"Oh, you don't have to bother Meta Knight! It's fine. I'll get something. There's a vending machine right around the corner," Kirby said.

"Nonsense! Meta's getting coffee anyway. He won't mind. Besides, it's freezing. You need something warm to boost your spirits!" Dedede exclaimed, already hurriedly texting on his phone.

Kirby glanced to Bandana Dee, who smiled in a friendly manner and mouthed _go ahead_. "Um…I don't really drink coffee, though," Kirby said.

"Hot chocolate?" Dedede suggested.

_Oh. _"Yes!" Kirby exclaimed. "Oh, I love that. Are you sure you don't mind, though? Or Meta Knight?"

Dedede laughed loudly, and he waved dismissively, as he put away his phone. "Nonsense! I'd feel terrible if everyone had something warm and sweet to drink, except for you!"

Kirby quite liked the idea of being included in the group, but he couldn't think of an appropriate way to say _thank you so much. I've never had people buy coffee for me before or be my friends, and this is the best thing ever. _Nothing he thought of seemed to portray the depth with which he was thinking of.

There were a few minutes of silence, during which everyone was content to consume as much pizza as possible. It wasn't quite a competition, but Kirby noted that he, himself, was scarfing down pizza faster than Dedede or Bandana Dee; awkwardly, he wondered if he ought to slow down a bit, so he didn't seem like he was eating so much of their food. "So Kirby is in art class with me," Bandana Dee said, breaking the silence. "Here from the provinces."

"Pupupu Village," Kirby said.

"Oh, I know that place," Dedede said. "Along the coast, isn't it?"

Kirby nodded. "Yeah, it is."

"So what brings you all the way here?" Dedede inquired.

"Oh," Kirby said. "Well, there aren't many universities near Pupupu, and I really liked the idea of going somewhere new."

"Fair enough," said Bandana Dee, around a bite of pizza.

"Swallow your food, before you speak, please," Dedede said, wrinkling his nose.

"Yes, _Mom_," Bandana Dee said, rolling his eyes.

"We have a guest," Dedede said. "You're going to scare away our new friend."

"Me? Kirby's already had a run-in with Meta Knight. I seriously doubt _I_'m going to scare him away," Bandana Dee said.

"But Meta Knight isn't scary," Kirby cut in.

_He's too beautiful to be scary. _Dedede and Bandana Dee burst into laughter. "Oh, he _just _has no idea, does he?" Dedede asked, around his chuckles.

Bandana Dee snorted and smiled sympathetically. "Sorry, Kirby. It's just…ah, well, you'll see, once you get to know him," Bandana Dee said. "Meta Knight—"

"What about Meta Knight?"

Everyone jumped. Kirby peered over his shoulder, where Meta Knight seemed to have just…appeared. From nowhere. Meta Knight still had his glasses on, even indoors, but he'd pushed his hood back. His long hair looked violet, beneath the light of the rose glass. Scary? Not in the slightest. "Dammit, Meta Knight! Are you trying to give us all heart attacks?" Dedede asked.

"Yes," Meta Knight replied simply.

He pulled a plastic cup out of the coffee carrier he was holding and set it on the table. Kirby took a look at it—some pale, icy thing with glorious piles of whipped cream and caramel. Kirby had only ever had cheap, simple coffee—the few times he'd tried it, hoping to acquire a taste—but Meta Knight's coffee was _art. _Or rather—Kirby peered more closely at the cup. _Medanite_.

"Medanite?" Kirby queried.

"After trying to spell it out for her three times, I just gave up. Here's your drink," Meta Knight paused and eyed the writing on the cup. "Kurbeh."

Kirby reached to take the cup, his fingers brushing against Meta Knight's. Meta Knight jerked his hand back suddenly, and for a few awkward seconds, Kirby stared at Meta Knight, hoping for an explanation. Meta Knight didn't offer one; instead, he grabbed another cup of coffee and passed it to Bandana Dee. Hm. Maybe touching made Meta Knight uncomfortable.

Kirby took a sip of his hot chocolate and brightened. It was far too hot and would probably burn his tongue, which he'd regret later, but it was the most wonderful, richest hot chocolate he'd ever had.

"Banddanna Dae?" Bandana Dee said, dubiously eyeing his cup.

"Hey, how come I get my coffee last?" Dedede asked, crossing his arms.

"Isn't it obvious?" Meta Knight inquired, passing Dedede his coffee.

Kirby didn't understand, but Dedede took his drink, without missing a beat. "Saving the best for last, of course! Never doubted you for a moment, Mety!" he exclaimed.

"Of course not," Meta Knight replied, taking the seat across from Kirby and accepting the pizza that Bandana Dee passed him. "Thank you."

"Though you could've insisted that _my _name was spelled properly," Dedede mused. "DDD?"

Meta Knight said nothing and took a sip of his tasty-looking whipped cream and ice concoction. If Kirby ever went for coffee, he wanted whatever _that _was. The hot chocolate was like nirvana in a cup, but Meta Knight's coffee-thing looked _amazing. _"Oh! Thanks, for the hot chocolate, Dedede, Meta Knight! It's really wonderful," Kirby said.

Meta Knight inclined his head slightly. "Anytime!" Dedede exclaimed, animatedly waving his arms. "It does nobility good to look after their loyal subjects!"

Kirby couldn't quite figure out if Dedede was joking or not. "I…guess?" Kirby ventured.

"He's thirty-fifth in line for the throne," Meta Knight supplied, toying with the straw of his drink.

_Oh. _Kirby had never met nobility before and wondered if he ought to bow or something. Meta Knight and Bandana Dee hadn't, but what if they were royal, too? "I, um…"

Kirby felt his face warm. "Not that anyone treats me like it," Dedede said, with a playful glare at Meta Knight. "Like him. He's my most _favoritest, _wonderful, pet knight, and he won't even make the barista spell my name right."

"I'm _not _your pet or a knight, for that matter," Meta Knight replied.

"Sure, you are! Meta _Knight_. Besides, you could beat _any _member of the King's Guard," Dedede said.

Bandana Dee snorted. "So now it's going to be a 'my knight is better than your knight' thing?" he asked.

"No!" Dedede exclaimed. "Because when Mety won, they'd make him join the King's Guard, and _no one _is taking my favoritest—"

"That isn't a word," Meta Knight cut in, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"—wonderful, amazing, glorious pet knight," Dedede continued, undeterred.

"I swear, I don't know _why _I continue to hang around you two," Meta Knight said.

"Because we have a contract, and I _own _your ass," Dedede said, grinning.

"Just his ass?" Bandana Dee inquired. "Doesn't sound very useful."

Dedede grinned and patted Meta Knight's head. "Well, actually—"

"Do you see what I have to endure, Kirby?" Meta Knight asked, tilting his head back.

"_Endure_?" Dedede gasped. "Sir Knight, I am _wounded_."

"So…you're his…um…" Kirby trailed off.

"Officially, I'm his bodyguard," Meta Knight said.

"Not that he acts like it," Dedede said.

"You don't even _need _a bodyguard," Meta Knight said. "I've seen you train with that hammer of yours. You just keep me around, so you'll have someone to fetch things for you."

"You think so?" Dedede asked, smirking.

"I _know _so. You get some sort of twisted joy out of ordering me around."

Dedede's smirk widened. "You know; you're right about that," Dedede said.

Meta Knight opened his mouth, like he was going to say something, but he seemed to change his mind and took a bite of his pizza instead. "So what about you, Bandana Dee?" Kirby asked. "Are you a bodyguard, too?"

Bandana Dee chuckled and shook his head. "I'm Dedede's third cousin, twice removed. Sixth-third in line for the throne."

"Wow! That's really cool. I've never met nobility before, and now two in one day!" Kirby said.

"No? Well, you'll probably meet more, while you're here," Dedede said. "Dreamland University is very popular with the minor aristocracy; it used to be a castle. You know."

"Really?" Kirby asked.

Dedede nodded. "Yes, it used to be a favorite of one of the kings…" he trailed off. "Which one was it, Meta Knight?"

"Bikaia, obviously."

"Obviously?" Dedede asked. "What do you mean _obviously_? There are, like, five-hundred kings!"

"Maybe because King Bikaia was famous for sealing away Galacta Knight, and there are pictures of Galacta Knight _everywhere_?" Meta Knight replied, gesturing to the large, stained glass windows.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense."

"Kind of weird, isn't it, though?" Bandana Dee asked. "King Bikaia sealed Galacta Knight away because Galacta Knight was an enemy. Why would he have so many portraits of him?"

"Because he felt guilty," Kirby supplied.

Everyone at the table turned to look at him. "Really?" Dedede asked.

Kirby nodded and gazed at the windows, the bright construction of lead and rose glass. "Yeah, well, I think. It's sort of my pet theory. Most art historians think that King Bikaia did it to remind people of the person he'd vanquished, but I don't think that's the case. Galacta Knight never looks very threatening, does he?"

"I guess not," said Bandana Dee.

"Right, and if Galacta Knight was supposed to be some great evil, wouldn't the artists make him look evil? I think, maybe, Bikaia felt guilty," Kirby said. "I mean…well, it…I don't know. It's just something I thought of. Bikaia did seal someone in a crystal for a millennium; that's pretty horrible."

"If he felt so guilty, why didn't he just break the crystal?" Meta Knight asked. "Simple solution."

Kirby kept his gaze on the glass, something tugging at him, but he couldn't quite place what it was. "I can't—I don't know."

"Well, to be fair," Bandana Dee said, "_After _Galacta Knight was freed, he went on a murder spree across the galaxy."

"Wouldn't _you _be angry, too?" Meta Knight asked. "After spending a millennium trapped in a crystal, able to see every moment pass before you and unable to move?"

"I always heard he was unconscious," Dedede said.

Meta Knight shrugged. "That's the version I was told," Meta Knight said. "I always heard he was awake."

"Were you named after him, Meta Knight?" Kirby asked, turning his attention to the older student.

"I don't think so, but it wouldn't surprise me, if I was."

"Or some other knight," Bandana Dee said. "All those old knights have 'knight' in their names. Mace Knight, Axe Knight, Sword Knight…"

"And Meta Knight!" exclaimed Dedede. "The greatest knight in the galaxy!"

Meta Knight smiled fleetingly. Kirby took a sip from his hot chocolate and glanced at the glass windows once more. "_So_ is this your first semester here, Kirby?" Dedede asked.

Kirby nodded. "And you?"

"No, Mety and I are juniors. I'm in political science; he's in astrophysics, damn overachiever," Dedede said.

"And it's my second year," Bandana Dee said. "I'm double-majoring in art history and printmaking."

"Oh, how cool!" Kirby said. "I'm majoring in drawing. Or painting. I really like both."

"You should look at joining some of the clubs, then," Bandana Dee said. "There's a pretty good art club. I think they meet every Friday at five. I've never been, but I hear it's a lot of fun."

"You could go; you know," Meta Knight said. "You two don't have to sacrifice every Friday night for me."

"Of course, we do!" Dedede exclaimed. "A knight is nothing, without a fair lady to support him!"

Meta Knight made an odd, choking noise. Kirby thought it might've been an attempt to cover a laugh, but it sounded convincing enough that Kirby wouldn't rule out Meta Knight legitimately choking. It was probably a laugh, though; Kirby was almost sure. "You're his fair lady?" Bandana Dee asked.

"I don't see why I can't be. Better me fawning over him than someone he doesn't know," Dedede said.

"So what's special about Friday?" Kirby asked.

"Oh, it's when all the sword matches are!" Dedede exclaimed.

"I haven't even said I'm joining the team this year," Meta Knight said. "Besides, they're talking about cutting longswords and arming swords this year, so I'd have to do saber or rapier."

"Well, it's just a different kind of sword, Mety. I mean, as skilled as you are, you'd be just as good with any other one," Dedede said.

"Certainly, but I don't _want _to use a different sword," Meta Knight said, "And since _I _will be the one fighting, that's my decision to make."

"I just don't see what difference it would make," Dedede said.

"Well, you fight differently, depending on the blade," Kirby said, "And they have different functions, too. That changes a lot of things, and I mean, everyone has their preference."

"You've done swordplay?" Bandana Dee inquired.

"A little. I did a rapier and a little of the saber, though; I didn't like longswords because they're so heavy," Kirby said. "I never tried the arming sword; my school didn't use those."

"Any good?" Meta Knight asked.

"I wasn't _bad_," Kirby said, "But I'm sure I'm nowhere near as good as you."

Meta Knight hummed. "You might be better than you think," Meta Knight said.

Dedede groaned dramatically. "Oh, Stars, now there's going to be _two _of him," Dedede complained.

"What happened to him being your _most favoritest _knight?" Bandana Dee joked. "You can have two favorite knights!"

Kirby glanced at Meta Knight; it was difficult to tell precisely where Meta Knight was looking, beneath his glasses. It looked like Meta Knight might be glancing at something far off, something that no one else could see. Dedede and Bandana Dee were still debating the benefits of having a Meta Knight and a Kirby Knight. "Hey, Meta Knight, can I ask you something?" Kirby asked.

Meta Knight shrugged. "Why couldn't you?" he asked.

Kirby didn't understand the answer, but it sounded like an invitation. "I don't want to be, um, intrusive or anything, but why do you wear those glasses?" Kirby asked.

"To hide how adorable he is," Dedede cut in, at the same time Waddle Dee answered, "To hide his hideous countenance!"

"Because my eyes are overly sensitive to light," Meta Knight said. "That's all."

"Though you _are _adorable," Dedede said.

"I am _not_."

"Are, too!" Bandana Dee exclaimed.

Meta Knight crossed his arms. "You _just _said that I was hideous, three minutes ago," Meta Knight said.

"I changed my mind," Bandana Dee said, with a cheeky smile.

"Oh! I have to get to class!" Dedede exclaimed abruptly, clambering from his seat. "Later, Guys! Nice to meet you, Kirby!"

"Oh, you, too!"

Dedede grabbed his backpack, threw it on his shoulder, and proceeded to dash across the dining hall's floor. "Yeah, I have to go soon, too," Bandana Dee said, glancing at his phone. "To algebra. Ugh. Any chance you want to take that class for me, Meta?"

"Not a chance," said Meta Knight cheerfully. "Have fun."

"Go die in a fire. You, Kirby?"

"Oh, I'm done for the day," Kirby said.

"Lucky," Bandana Dee said. "Oh, hey, aren't you done, too, Meta? You could show Kirby around the campus!"

"You don't have to do that, Meta Knight! I'm sure you have lots of important things to do," Kirby said.

"It's Monday. He doesn't," Bandana Dee said, with a mischievous gleam. "Right, Meta Knight?"

"You know; you _are_ right," Meta Knight said. "I might as well."

"Wonderful!" Bandana Dee exclaimed. "I'm sure you'll have lots to discuss! Later, Kirby! Meta!"

Bandana Dee scrambled away, looking suspiciously happy with himself. "That was a little odd, wasn't it?" Kirby said.

Meta Knight shrugged. "He probably ships us," he said nonchalantly.

"Ships us…? What is that?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," Meta Knight answered. "Are you done? I'll clean up, and we'll get started."

Kirby helped clean up; he would've felt bad if Meta Knight did everything, but when Meta Knight wasn't looking Kirby's way, the art student pulled out his cell phone to Google search what it meant to ship someone. Evidently, it was a desire for two people to be in a relationship, which could be romantic or a friendship. Obviously, Kirby thought, Bandana Dee wouldn't be setting Meta Knight up with a stranger, for a romantic relationship. That meant friendship, then, and that was _wonderful_. Kirby would happily be friends with someone as lovely as Meta Knight, and though Kirby didn't know the other student very _well_, Kirby was an optimist and believed that all people were inherently good.

That had been his mistake before and led to plenty of problems. Kirby forgave too quickly and perhaps, let too many things pass without protest. Kirby was quick to protect others but not so quick to defend himself. This time would be different, though; he knew it. He and Meta Knight were going to be best friends.

* * *

><p><em>AN: And there's chapter two! I'd like to think everyone who reviewed; I think everyone likes reviews. I'd also like to thank all the readers, though. This is my first fic in the Kirby fandom, and no one sent me messages telling me that I ruined Kirby forever, so thank you all. I'm not sure what else to say; I'll try to update this weekly. I'm very terrible at deadlines, so this might be good practice. Until next week, dear readers!_


	3. Mixed Media

**Disclaimer: You guys know how it works. ;)**

* * *

><p>It was one in the morning, and everything was silent. Magolor glanced at his roommate to ensure that he was asleep. He was, so Magolor crept out of bed.<p>

Magolor had spent most of his early teens studying magic—a difficult feat, in a world that no longer believed in it, and he needed cloves for a spell. Rather than ask for them from the staff that ran the group home and answer questions he didn't want to, he'd decided to just steal them.

The hallways were dark, and Magolor had to remind himself that he was sixteen and _far _too old to be afraid. Far too old, but he still jumped when the shadows seemed to shift. One moved, when he arrived in the kitchen, and Magolor paused. A shiver tore through him, and he _swore _he was being watched. But that didn't make sense. Who would be up so early in the morning? No one.

He shook his head, squared his shoulders, and walked onward. It was nothing but his over-active imagination. Yes, that was it. He walked around the counter and froze. Someone was crouched beneath the counter. Oh, Stars. Magolor stumbled back. A burglar? Who on _Popstar _would break into a group home? Run. He needed to run. "For Stars' sake, quick spazzing out!" the figure snapped.

The voice wasn't familiar, but it sounded young and broke in a cringingly familiar way. "Who are you?" Magolor asked, trying to sound authoritative.

"Marx, and you're Magolor. Right?"

Something about Marx's voice was sly, and Magolor could imagine the shark-like smile that likely accompanied it. "How do you know my name?" Magolor asked.

"I make it my business to know things."

Marx stood, and Magolor could see him a little better. It was too dark to distinguish much, but Magolor could tell that Marx was a slight, willowy creature and _barely _five-foot-two, if that. "Why are you here?" Magolor asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Marx answered.

"Getting cloves," Magolor said.

"Oh? What for?"

"I thought you were in the business of knowing things," Magolor replied.

Marx chuckled. "Some sort of Halcandran magic-y thing?" Marx inquired, tilting his head to one side. "Hm?"

Magolor really hated to admit that Marx was right. "Yes," he muttered. "What about you?"

"You know the new kid?" Marx asked.

Magolor shook his head. "The one with the _really _blond hair?" Marx added. "Kind of short?"

"Still no," Magolor answered.

"Oh," Marx said. "You're really unobservant. Anyway, I hate him. He acts like he's so high and mighty, and he's _so _fake. He tries so hard to be good and noble, and it's so annoying. Like there are no _words _to describe how horrible he is, and the more I think about him, the more I really hate him."

Magolor tried not to shift uncomfortably. _Hate _was really a strong word, especially for someone that Marx had only known for a couple days. "So what does that—"

"Oh, yeah!" Marx exclaimed. "Anyway, he has serious sleeping problems, so I'm going to mess with his medicine."

Magolor stared at Marx for a long moment. Marx began to giggle. "Pretty clever, isn't it?" Marx asked. "I doubt he'll catch on."

"Don't," Magolor said. "You shouldn't…you shouldn't mess with someone's medicine. I mean…"

Magolor didn't know much about medicine, but he knew that sleeping problems were probably neurological. And it was bad to mess with someone's head. Really bad. "Oh, come on!" Marx said, voice thick with exasperation. "I'm just replacing them with vitamins! It's not like I'm poisoning him, and it's just for a few days. He starts looking bad, I'll swap them back. He has this coming to him, Mag."

Magolor frowned and shuffled his feet awkwardly. Marx certainly made it all sound like a harmless prank, and if Magolor hadn't come along, Marx would've done it anyway. That meant that if something happened, it really wasn't Magolor's fault, right? And as slight as Marx was, he was probably bullied a lot; Magolor knew what it was like to be picked on. What if the new kid was really mean or something? Maybe he did have it coming to him. "You promise that it's just for a few days?" Magolor asked.

"Yeah, of course! I don't want to _really _hurt him," Marx answered, with utmost sincerity.

_But you said you hate him._

"You won't tell anyone, though, right?" Marx asked. "I mean, it's just a bit of fun."

"Right. No, of course I wouldn't tell. It isn't my business."

"Oh, I like you, Mag!" Marx exclaimed. "Well, have fun with the spells and things! I'm going to work on _this_."

Magolor grabbed his cloves and left. Then, he sat on his bed, for a very long time, and tried to convince himself that he hadn't made a very bad choice. By sunrise, he could _almost _believe that.

* * *

><p>Kirby had never had a friend over before, so the sight of Meta Knight, sitting on Kirby's couch, in Kirby's dorm, was impossibly surreal. They'd went to Kirby's dorm, so Kirby could drop off his backpack and hadn't quite left yet. Kirby thought that they ought to talk about something, but maybe Meta Knight didn't <em>want <em>to talk about anything. Still, Kirby was determined to be a good host—whatever that meant—and that meant doing…nice, er, things. "Do you want something to drink?" Kirby asked, shattering the silence.

Meta Knight peered over the couch at Kirby. "I have soda," Kirby said, "And…um, water. And some sort of zena, um, alcohol-thing."

"Alcohol-thing?"

"Yeah, my aunt bought it for me, as a house-warming gift? But I've never had alcohol, and I don't even know how to open it. She sent me a corkscrew and glasses and everything, but um…" Kirby trailed off.

"How old are you?" Meta Knight asked. "Eighteen?"

Kirby nodded. "And you've _never _had wine?"

"No," Kirby said. "I mean, I wanted to, when I turned sixteen and everything, but I just never—never did."

"I'm surprised. I thought you the type to have a huge party with lots of alcohol," Meta Knight said.

"Oh. Well, I didn't really have friends," Kirby said, leaning back against his kitchen counter. "I guess I was just too weird, you know?"

"Maybe you weren't the problem," Meta Knight remarked.

"Well, I'm pretty sure I was," answered Kirby. "I mean, everyone else couldn't be wrong."

Kirby added a laugh, for good measure; he didn't want Meta Knight to worry about him. "Why couldn't they be?" Meta Knight inquired. "Don't be so quick to assume the fault rests solely with you. You'll be much happier, if you have confidence in who and what you are."

Kirby smiled and glanced away. "That's such a nice thing to say," Kirby said. "Thank you."

"Of course."

"So I guess I'm done here," Kirby said. "Um…"

Meta Knight got to his feet and led the way out. From there, the campus tour descended into chaos. Kirby wanted to see the performing arts building first, so Meta Knight led him there. Then, Kirby decided he wanted coffee—specifically, the kind Meta Knight drank, so they back-tracked to the coffee shop. Then, the library. Then, the bookstore. The end result was that they walked back and forth, aimlessly all over campus.

It occurred to Kirby at some point that Meta Knight might've _had _an actual plan in place. And that Meta Knight had probably spent most of his evening leading Kirby to whatever random place he wanted to go. Of course, after thinking that, Kirby couldn't think of a tactful way to _ask _how Meta Knight felt. "Am I bothering you?" Kirby blurted out suddenly.

"Why would you be bothering me?"

"Well, because we've kind of went all over the place, and I thought you might have things to do. You know," Kirby admitted. "I mean, if you have to go do something—"

"If I have to go somewhere, I'll go," Meta Knight stated. "For now, this is fine. You shouldn't worry so much about me; it's excessive."

"Oh. I just, well, friends are supposed to worry about each other," Kirby admitted awkwardly.

Meta Knight tensed and froze, in his place on the sidewalk. So Kirby stopped, too. "_Friends_?" Meta Knight asked. "You think we're _friends_?"

Kirby flinched. He'd just sort of assumed. Kirby swallowed and looked at anything but Meta Knight. "Well, um, I thought…I mean, can I be your friend?" Kirby asked.

"We've just met, Kirby," Meta Knight said.

"Oh. I guess. I mean, I'm sorry. I just assumed, and it was kind of, um, presum-presumpt...um."

"Presumptuous?"

"Yeah, that. I'm sorry," Kirby mumbled.

"No, you shouldn't be. _I_ apologize. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that it takes time to make friends; I was surprised that you thought we were so close."

Tentatively, Kirby glanced up, and Meta Knight's expression seemed to soften a bit. "Besides," Meta Knight said. "We barely know one another. Given time, you might decide you don't even like me."

"What? But you're so nice and smart and pretty!" Kirby protested. "Why wouldn't I like you?"

"I have my faults," Meta Knight said, "Same as everyone else."

Kirby couldn't imagine what sort of flaws Meta Knight could possibly have. "So we can be acquaintances?" Kirby ventured. "Just for now?"

"I'll tell you what. You can be a young hero-to-be, on the verge of discovering some great destiny, and I'll be your mysterious, trickster mentor," Meta Knight said.

Kirby laughed, at the unexpected bit of humor. "Sir Kirby Knight!" Kirby exclaimed, brandishing an imaginary sword.

"Savior of the Free World," Meta Knight said, with a small, mock-bow.

Kirby smiled brightly. "And what are we fighting, noble mentor?" Kirby asked.

"What sort of trickster mentor would I be, if I told you?" Meta Knight asked, resuming his walk.

Kirby hastened to keep pace with his newly-named mentor. "That's not fair," Kirby pouted. "If I'm the great hero-to-be, don't I need to know what I'm facing?"

Meta Knight was quiet for a few moments, and Kirby began to think the man had tired of the game. "Maybe," Meta Knight said carefully. "Maybe I don't know what the great threat is. Maybe there's just something dark and evil out there, something beckoning for me, and I'm strong enough to resist it, but I know, deep down, that someone won't be. Eventually, someone will awaken this horrible, monstrous thing, and I won't be enough to stop it. So I need you. Of course, I can't admit that I don't know _all _the details. The mentor is supposed to know everything. Otherwise, he's just useless."

"You can pretend to know everything," Kirby pointed out. "That way you still get to be all cool and mysterious."

"I _am _cool and mysterious."

Kirby laughed and gazed around him, to see if they were passing anything interesting. They seemed to have wandered onto some kind of nature trail. "Where are we?" Kirby asked.

"I don't know the actual name," Meta Knight said, "But this is between the observatory and the library. It goes almost all the way around campus, this trail. There's a road that runs alongside it, but it's on the other side of the trees."

"Oh."

"Keep an eye out for scarfies," Meta Knight added. "I've never seen one out here, but I've heard stories."

Kirby nodded sagely. "So the observatory," he said. "Is that where your classes are?"

"Only one. The observatory is actually open to the public. They do night tours and things. It's fun, during Nova Night; they have a big party."

"Nova Night?"

"When the comet Nova makes its yearly cycle," Meta Knight explained. "The observatory is a good place to view it from."

"Oh."

It was beginning to get dark, so Kirby moved a little closer towards Meta Knight. Mostly so he wouldn't lose track of his friend; there weren't many lights where they were. "So how long have you been Dedede's bodyguard?"

"About five years," Meta Knight said.

"Wow! That's a really long time. No wonder you guys seem so close!" Kirby exclaimed.

"Well, it's normal to feel a bit of affection to someone who has saved your life," Meta Knight said.

"You saved his life?" Kirby asked. "How?"

"Some thug stabbed him, and I happened to be walking by, while it was happening. Dedede was injured, but I managed to fight the guy off."

"Wow! You must be so brave! And to do that for someone you didn't even know…"

"It was the right thing to do," Meta Knight said, "And after that, Dedede started really working on his own self-defense. He changed a lot, after what happened."

"I'd imagine so," Kirby said. "Wow, though. I don't know if I could've done that, if I'd been there."

"I don't know. Sometimes, you find the strength and courage to do things that you'd never have imagined. Though to be fair, I had Galaxia with me."

"Galaxia?"

"My sword."

Kirby thought people only named swords in fairy tales, but he supposed it fit, since Meta Knight was his 'trickster mentor.' Inwardly, Kirby giggled at the thought. "Are you sure that you aren't the hero-to-be?" Kirby teased. "You already do heroic things, and you have a magical sword."

"Who ever said Galaxia was magical?"

"Of course, she is! You can't be a hero without a magical sword," Kirby said. "Those are the rules."

"Well, if those are the rules," Meta Knight said. "But no, I'm certain I'm the mentor."

"Okay, so who's Dedede?" Kirby asked.

"Hm. I guess he's the cute, little sidekick," Meta Knight said.

Kirby laughed. "And Bandana Dee? Who's he?"

"The innocent by-stander," Meta Knight answered.

"He can't be that! Aren't the innocent by-standers always the first to die for cheap drama?" Kirby inquired.

"Actually, I think that's the role of the mentor," Meta Knight said softly. "The mentor dies and leaves his student, as his legacy."

"Well, never fear, Meta Knight! As your hero-to-be, I will make it my goal to ensure that you die very old, surrounded by your dearest friends and loved ones!" Kirby declared, striking a very dramatic pose.

Meta Knight smiled sadly; Kirby assumed it was Meta Knight playing the role of the mysterious mentor, who knew too much and said too little. Such a mentor should be a bit melancholy. In response, Kirby tried to look appropriately heroic and fierce. "I have the utmost confidence in you," Meta Knight said. "Come along. I'll treat you to dinner; consider it your welcome present from me."

Kirby grinned. "Really?" Kirby asked.

Meta Knight nodded. "Okay, and then, I'll take you out someday!" Kirby exclaimed. "So we'll be even, right?"

"If you like."

Kirby smiled to himself. The heroes of old could think whatever they liked, but Kirby had the best trickster mentor _ever._

* * *

><p><em>Everyone? I have a plot! There's a plot! As always, thanks to all my readers and all the reviewers. Speaking of reviewers, I need to address one of those comments from an anon:<em>

I got a few questions though if you don't mind. 1.) Since we seen that Galacta Knight is popular in their legends and in Kirby's Return to Dreamland he shows up as a boss in the True Arena, will he have a physical appearance?(or is that a secret?) 2.) Will we see any of the university's professors because I can see Drawcia as Kirby's teacher xD

_Firstly, __I __don't mind questions at all. I actually really enjoy answering them. 1.) I can say right now that Galacta Knight will make a physical appearance; I love Galacta Knight and actually have something special in mind for him. 2.) Oh, absolutely! I made Kirby an art major. I couldn't _possibly _write something like that, without making Drawcia his professor. ;)_


	4. Performing Arts

**Disclaimer: Do I really need to keep putting disclaimers?**

* * *

><p>Magolor's breath frosted the air, and the shingles were rough and damp beneath his hands. It was worth it, though. The stars were most beautiful in the winter, and the roof was the best place to observe them. Magolor felt closer to them there. He hauled himself onto the roof and stared. Someone else was already up there, laying on the roof.<p>

The boy had the palest white-blond hair Magolor had ever seen; in the night, it seemed to shine like moonlight. "Why are you up here?" Magolor asked.

The boy didn't so much as glance at Magolor. "Thinking," he said.

Magolor supposed that was as good of an answer as any. "About what?" Magolor inquired, settling onto the roof.

"Nothing that concerns you."

Magolor tried to survey the boy, without being obvious. There wasn't anything really special about his looks, though there were noticeably dark circles under his eyes, and—_oh. _Magolor wondered if that was who Marx had meant. "You're the kid that has nightmares," Magolor said carefully. "Right?"

"Lots of people have nightmares."

"But you have them pretty regularly, don't you? Am I allowed to ask what they're about?"

"No."

"I'm sorry. It must be terrible," Magolor said.

He really wanted to keep the boy talking, to see a reason for Marx to hate him so much. Thus far, the boy didn't seem to be anything really _bad_. "I came here because it's quiet," the boy said. "Do you mind?"

Magolor scowled, but he didn't argue. Admittedly, the other boy had been there first, and if he didn't want to talk, Magolor wasn't going to force him to. A thick silence settled, though, and it wasn't long before Magolor found himself shifting uneasily. It was just…weird to have another person there. "You picked a pretty place to think," Magolor said. "A bit cold, though."

The boy cast Magolor an annoyed look. "Sorry. I don't like awkward silences," Magolor said, with a nervous chuckle, "But I really want to be out here tonight. I feel like the stars are calling me. But that's…"

Magolor paused and chuckled again. "Silly, I know. Sorry," he said.

He _really _needed to shut-up. "The stars are calling you…?" the boy asked.

"I know. It sounds really weird," Magolor said. "Never mind."

The boy sat upright and tilted his head, like a curious cat. "Does it feel like there's someone out there waiting for you, but you can't quite figure out who or what it is?" the boy asked.

Magolor started. "Kind of like it's a piece of yourself? Or…you…does it feel like a woman?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," the boy replied. "It kind of feels like a woman, but it sounds like a man. Maybe it's both."

"I've never heard a voice. More like…vague feelings?"

"Yeah, I have those, too. Sometimes, when I dream."

Magolor frowned and studied the boy carefully. "Have you ever considered that your nightmares are really something else? Like…"

"Like magic? Sometimes. But magic is gone, and it's evil. I can't—"

"I don't know," Magolor said. "When I feel this…this _thing_, it doesn't feel evil. It feels good, like another piece of me. Don't you feel the same?"

The boy nodded haltingly. "So maybe…maybe it's okay," Magolor said.

"Maybe. It doesn't matter. No one would believe I'm magical."

"I do."

* * *

><p>Meta Knight answered the door, and Kirby literally gawked. Meta Knight wore silver armor, engraved with elaborate floral designs, and a shimmering, midnight-blue cape. He was like one of the images of Galacta Knight, set in glass and brought to life. The only difference was that Meta Knight had chosen to wear a simple, silver mask with a tinted visor, instead of the traditional helmet; that was probably normal, though. Kirby hadn't followed what was fashionable armor in a long time, but even he knew that the Royal Guard, at least, had transitioned from helmets to decorative masks with protective lenses.<p>

It was the first time Kirby had seen Meta Knight's eyes so clearly; the color was still indiscernible, but clearly something pale. "_Oh_," Kirby said. "You look—you look magnificent!"

Meta Knight smiled wryly, as if he knew _just _how well armor suited him. "Thank you," he said. "Come in."

"So this is a really important thing, huh?" Kirby asked, following Meta Knight into the apartment. "Bandanna Dee just said you were leaving for a week."

"There is a meeting at the castle. It's mostly Dedede's father that needs to attend, but he's trying to put Dedede into some high circles. And of course, as Dedede's bodyguard, I'll need to go as well."

Kirby looked around the apartment. Bandanna Dee had mentioned that he, Dedede, and Meta Knight lived in the same apartment, but since the apartment was on-campus, Kirby hadn't expected it to be so huge. Kirby wondered who'd been in charge of decorating. Everything was coordinated, flawless, and clean. It was uncomfortable, in a way; it looked like something from a magazine, a house that was too perfect to be lived in. That was until they walked into the living room. There, it looked like a clothing factory had exploded.

In the midst of the explosion, stood Dedede, in a long, scarlet coat. He spun around and grinned. "Kirby! Wonderful! Have you come to see us off?"

Bandanna Dee's head popped up from around the edge of the sofa. "Actually, I invited him," Bandanna Dee said. "It's going to be boring with you two gone."

Dedede laughed heartily. "Aw, you're going to miss us!" he exclaimed.

Bandanna Dee rolled his eyes. "Not a bit," replied Bandanna Dee. "I have Kirby now. We're going to have the best week _ever_. We're going to go have a giant party, go to the theater and to art club and, um…and I'm going to help Kirby dye his hair pink."

Kirby grinned, delighted that Bandanna Dee remembered his wish for pink hair. "It won't be hard," Meta Knight said. "Your hair is already such a pale blond, Kirby. It would suit you."

"And it'll match all his clothes!" Dedede exclaimed. "That's _brilliant_! I should go red; you know."

"Uh, no. I'm the token red-head," Bandanna Dee said. "We can't have another one."

Dedede scoffed and toyed with his jacket. "How do I look?" Dedede inquired. "Like I'm going to meet the king?"

"Very nice!" Kirby exclaimed. "And regal, just like Meta Knight!"

"Like a vampire," Bandanna Dee replied. "Fix your collar, and you'll be fine."

Dedede fumbled with the fabric, while Meta Knight stepped around the room, throwing aside a good half-dozen coats that likely cost more than Kirby would ever earn. Finally, he pulled free a sword, with a golden hilt. Its sheath and belt were dark blue, and Meta Knight cast Dedede an annoyed look, as he put them on. "I just hope this goes better than the _last _function we attended together," Meta Knight said.

"What was wrong with last time?" Dedede asked, sounding affronted.

"What was _wrong_? The _cake _incident!"

"The cake incident?" Kirby asked.

"You promised never to speak of that!" Dedede complained. "_Mety_."

"Hey, hold on," Bandanna Dee said. "I've never even heard of this. What happened?"

"It was for the wedding of the Duchess of Aqua Star. Dedede sneaked into the kitchen and ate a chunk out of her cake—"

"I just had a little bite!" Dedede protested.

"A little bite? You practically took off the whole top tier!" Meta Knight exclaimed.

"So? That's the smallest one. I doubt anyone would've noticed," Dedede said, "But you just couldn't leave it be."

Meta Knight heaved a longsuffering sigh. "It's your fault anyway," Dedede said. "You weren't watching me."

"That's because you sent me off with a grocery list of random stuff you wanted!"

"It wasn't random stuff!"

"You wanted me to find a bag of cat litter, a blue ball gown, a shovel, a pumpkin, and five pounds of balloons," Meta Knight deadpanned.

"You have a very good memory," Dedede noted, "But I had a purpose in mind for every single one of those things!"

"Tormenting me, no doubt," muttered Meta Knight.

"I am _wounded_, Sir Knight," Dedede paused and stage-whispered to Kirby. "He's just angry because he's missing a week of his classes."

Bandanna Dee stifled a laugh and grinned. "We might have to go bail one of them out of jail, before this is over with," Bandanna Dee joked. "My bet's on Dedede."

"Oh, ye of little faith," Dedede sighed.

Meta Knight spun around, his cape spreading nicely behind him. Privately, Kirby thought Meta Knight really enjoyed wearing capes and had twirled _just _for the effect. To be fair, Kirby thought it looked like fun, but he'd never had an occasion where he needed to wear one. "We should be going, Dedede. It won't do to be late," he said, "And besides, your father will blame me if we are."

Dedede grinned and strode to the door, ruffling Meta Knight's hair as he passed. "_Really_?" Meta Knight asked, quickly attempting to straighten his hair.

"Try not to kill him," Bandanna Dee chortled.

Meta Knight sighed. "No promises. See you in a week," he said, grimacing.

The second Meta Knight closed the door, Bandanna Dee fist-pumped the air. "Party-time!" he cried.

* * *

><p>Bandanna Dee hadn't thrown a party, but he kept good on his promise to help Kirby find the perfect pink hair dye. Kirby had settled on a pale, almost pastel color. Kirby liked the results, and Bandanna Dee cheerfully agreed, while clipping a tiny, star-shaped barrette to Kirby's newly-dyed locks.<p>

From there, they'd gone shopping through downtown Dreamland. Kirby had never seen so many people in his life, and it was overwhelming and wonderful. Bandanna Dee guided Kirby through all the best art shops, where they gawked at the paint selection and debated on the benefits of Prismacolor and Copic markers. They wandered downtown and pointed out bits about the architecture.

Overall, it was a fun evening. Bandanna Dee was bright and cheerful, and he knew a lot. They ended up back on campus, where Bandanna Dee rushed them over to the theater. That was when things went downhill very quickly. It wasn't that Kirby was tired or had an irrational hatred of the performing arts. It was that the _second _he set foot in the drama building, he heard the most awful, piercing ringing in his ears, and it would _not _stop.

Of course, Bandanna Dee was so excited about the play that Kirby couldn't bring himself to comment on the weird ringing; it was probably just sinuses, anyway. Besides, Kirby didn't want Bandanna Dee to worry, and it'd probably stop anyway. As they sat, Bandanna Dee happily scanned the cast list, commenting on names of a half-dozen people Kirby had never heard of. Kirby forced a smile and tried to listen around the ringing in his ears. By the end of the first act, the ringing had developed into a fierce headache. Kirby winced. "Hey, I'm going to the bathroom," he whispered.

"Oh, okay," Bandanna Dee said. "Hurry back, though, or you'll miss the good part."

"Sure."

Kirby left his seat and thought he might actually be sick. Okay, _definitely _not sinuses. Kirby stepped into the bathroom and leaned against the wall. The room spun around him. _Okay, _Kirby thought. _Just take deep breaths._

_No, I'm dying, _he thought.

Slowly, Kirby lowered himself to the ground and closed his eyes. The nausea didn't fade, but at least, the room wasn't moving anymore. Kirby groaned and vainly rubbed his temples. He didn't know how long he sat there, wondering _how long has it been I don't want to worry Bandanna Dee dear Nova, why does it still hurt? I need to get up. I need to do something._

Kirby braced a hand against the wall. He felt so _hot_. Why was everything so hot? Slowly and deliberately, he forced himself up. _I need to go home, _he thought.

But he didn't know if he could even _walk. _Surely, Bandanna Dee would come looking for him, if Kirby took too long, wouldn't he? Kirby opened his eyes, and the room seemed to tilt. He hissed between his teeth and leaned his head back against the wall. _It hurts, it hurts, it hurts._

Kirby blinked back tears; the ringing in his head grew into a symphony. And it _wouldn't _stop. "Hey, are you alright?"

The words seemed to come from another world, and it took Kirby a while to figure out what they meant. Kirby raised his head and met wide, golden eyes. "Just a headache," Kirby said, wincing.

The man smiled sympathetically. Dimly, Kirby noted that the man was probably in his early twenties, had straight, brown hair, and an oddly feline face. "I may have something for headaches; I get them quite a bit myself," the man said, shuffling through his backpack.

Kirby had been told never to take medicine from strangers, but being drugged or poisoned was beginning to seem preferable compared to the pounding in his head. "Wh-who are you?" Kirby asked.

Or tried to. He wasn't entirely sure he said the words right; it was getting hard to think. "Magolor," he said slowly. "And you?"

Magolor pulled a small bottle of medicine from his bag and unscrewed the top. "Kirby de Las Estrellas," he answered.

"Here."

Gently, Magolor took Kirby's hand—causing an odd, tingling feeling to jolt down Kirby's arm—and dropped a couple of pills into Kirby's palm. "Take those. They should help. Do you want me to get you something to drink?"

Drink? Drink. "No, I have something," Kirby said distantly.

Kirby fumbled for his backpack and shakily grabbed his bottle of water. After taking the medicine, he sank to the ground again, and dimly, he noted that Magolor sat beside him. "Y-you don't have to stay around," Kirby said.

"That's okay. I want to."

"Mm. That's nice of you," Kirby mumbled. "Everyone from around here is nice."

"Oh, I'm not! From here, that is. I just transferred here from another university, but I do like it. It's very lovely."

"Oh, what are you studying?" Kirby asked, more to be polite than anything else.

Magolor was probably a very nice guy, but all Kirby wanted to do was crawl somewhere dark and sleep. "I'm double-majoring in engineering and Halcandran studies," Magolor replied.

"Kirby! Are you okay?"

Kirby forced a bright smile and turned his head towards the painfully loud voice. Bandanna Dee evidently had been worried; Kirby felt a twinge of guilt for making his friend worry. "Yeah, I will be. I'm just not feeling too well," Kirby said, trying to force a smile.

"Oh! Well, I'll take you home," Bandanna Dee said.

"But I don't want to ruin your evening!"

Bandanna Dee shook his head. "We can hang out tomorrow, too, so don't worry. It's not going to ruin my evening."

"But you wanted to see this play…"

"Yeah, but it's okay. Besides, I think Meta has a copy of it on DVD, so it's not that big of a deal," Bandanna Dee said.

"Ah, well, I can see you're in good hands!" Magolor exclaimed suddenly. "Here's your phone back, Kirby!"

Kirby stared at it for a long moment. When had he given Magolor his phone? Kirby took it, blinking rapidly, as if to ensure that it _was _his phone. It was pink with stars; of course, it was. But…when had he…? "Call me sometime, though! I really think we'll be great friends!" Magolor exclaimed cheerfully.

Kirby took the phone, a little foggy-headed. He still didn't trust himself to stand, so he took the hand Bandanna Dee offered. Magolor must've left at some point. He wasn't there. "Kirby, who was that?" Bandanna Dee asks.

"Magolor," Kirby muttered, tucking his phone into his pocket.

"Hm."

Bandanna Dee furrowed his brow and placed his hand against Kirby's forehead. "You're really warm, Kirby," Bandanna Dee said. "Let's get you back to your dorm—or my apartment. That's closer."

"I'll be fine. Just need to sleep," Kirby mumbled.

Bandanna Dee threw an arm over Kirby's shoulders. "Okay, Kirby."

Kirby barely noticed the walk back to Bandanna Dee's apartment. It was like being in a dream, and suddenly, they were at their destination. Bandanna Dee unlocked the door and coaxed Kirby inside. "Do you want me to drive you over to the clinic?" Bandanna Dee asked.

Kirby shook his head, swaying where he stood. "No, that's fine," he muttered. "Maybe in the morning, if I'm still—still this bad."

Bandanna Dee nodded. "Okay, let's get you set up in Dedede's room, then."

"He won't mind?" asked Kirby.

Why was it _so _hot? "Of course not! We're your friends, Kirby," Bandanna Dee said. "It's no problem at all."

_Friends_. Lovely, wonderful really. Kirby tried really hard to smile and express his gratitude, but he couldn't ignore the feeling that something was wrong with him. Something very, very wrong.

* * *

><p>AN: As you can see, my weekly schedule fell off track a bit, and it's due more to life just being especially hectic. I have had the _worst _year thus far, but I'm going to aim to get back on track. As always, thanks to everyone for reading and/or reviewing. See you in the next chapter!


	5. Glass Blowing

**Disclaimer: [Imagine a witty disclaimer here.]**

* * *

><p>Magolor was never the sort of person to rush into situations, without knowing all the details, so he watched the boy from the rooftop—<em>still <em>hadn't managed to catch his name—for a long time, before deciding to make his move. His first goal was to figure out why Marx, who _insisted _that he hated that boy, was being suddenly so _nice_.

So Magolor cornered Marx one day to confront him about it. "Hey, Mags!" Marx exclaimed, grinning brightly. "How's the magic-y thing going? I wanted to talk to you about it."

Magolor crossed his arms. "You're still messing with that kid's medicine," he said. "Why?"

"Oh, straight to the point! I like that! But I told you before, it's just a bit of fun!" Marx exclaimed, with a laugh.

"It _isn't_! He looks terrible. You're going to break him, Marx!"

Marx waved a dismissive hand. "Don't be such a drama queen! He's not made of glass, and I won't _break _him—just crack him a bit, so he's useful."

"What are you talking about?"

Marx tilted his head and grinned. "You haven't figured it out yet," he said, in a sing-song voice. "He has magic—like you."

"I know that," Magolor said, "But how do—_oh. _You have it, too."

"I know. What are the odds?" Marx asked. "That three children, in the same group home, all have magic?"

"People with power are sometimes unconsciously attracted to one another," Magolor said, "But that doesn't explain why you're messing around with that kid."

"Awfully attached, aren't you? Do you even know his name?" Marx inquired.

"You're avoiding my question."

"Oh, you're no fun!" Marx pouted. "But fine. I want to be his friend, _but_ he's too suspicious to ever accept my friendship. So I need to strike, while he's…"

"Half-delusional from the lack of sleep?" Magolor asked. "Do you have _any _idea how disturbing that is?"

"Why do you _care_? You don't even know him!"

Magolor stared at Marx, before it finally sank in. _Marx really didn't understand. _"Because you're hurting an innocent person," Magolor said, "And that's wrong. And I won't allow it."

Marx surveyed Magolor carefully. "Okay," Marx said. "Fine. _You _try to figure it out, then, because we need him."

"_We_?"

Marx's eyes shined. "I might know where to find Landia's hoard. Interested?"

Landia, the legendary dragon. Magolor took a deep breath. "You really know where that is?" asked Magolor.

Marx nodded. "Yes, but to get there, we need someone capable of crossing dimensions," Marx said. "I suspect since his dreams are magical in nature…"

"He's capable of crossing dimensions, since the dream world _is _another world. That makes sense," Magolor said.

"And he's good in a fight, which is always a good thing," Marx said, "_So _since you won't let me screw with his medicine anymore, _you _figure it out. Because we need him."

Magolor tried to decide whether or not he was capable of being anyone's friend. Magolor didn't think he was exactly _unlikeable_, but he'd never made efforts to _be _someone's friend before. And Magolor didn't trust Marx, but the chance at adventure, at _Landia, _was incredibly alluring. Besides, if it got Marx to leave that kid alone, wasn't that a good thing? "I can do that," Magolor said.

"Wonderful. So for his tragic backstory. He comes from a small family; he has an aunt, but clearly, she didn't want him, or he wouldn't be here. No idea about his parents; they disappeared, when he was about six. He's been through four different homes, but they never last very long. It could be because he's so cold, or it could be because of the nightmares. At his last psychological exam, he was noted to be narcissistic and manipulative, possibly sociopathic."

Magolor tried to hide how appalled he was that Marx knew so much. That Marx had _been stalking someone_, for NOVA knew _how _long. Marx's grin widened, seeming to catch Magolor's disgust anyway. "The psychologist here is _terrible_. It's a miracle his license hasn't been revoked yet," Magolor said, "And how do you even _know _that?"

Marx laughed. "Oh, Magolor, it doesn't matter how I know. What matters is that I _do_. Just be careful that this boy doesn't manipulate _you_."

In Magolor's mind, _Marx _was far more threatening that anything that boy could be. "I'll be fine," Magolor replied.

"Well, have fun," Marx said, with a playful wave. "His name is Meta Knight."

* * *

><p>Kirby woke to the sounds of indignant shouting and the smell of pancakes. He turned over in bed, and it took him a few minutes to figure out where he <em>was<em>. The sheets were silk. Bemused, Kirby sat upright and fingered the fabric. _He _didn't have—_oh, _it was Dedede's room. That was right.

Kirby looked around, surprised at how _neat _it was. He'd expected Dedede to be a bit messy; that would fit his loud personality. "_Bandanna Dee, _tell him he's being ridiculous!" Dedede's voice filtered through the walls.

Kirby slid from bed and wobbled a bit on the floor. He felt a bit unsteady, as he walked towards the kitchen, and at one point, he mistakenly drifted into the wrong room—which he suspected was Meta Knight's, simply because everything was midnight blue. Bandanna Dee didn't seem like a midnight blue person. Maybe forest green or sapphire.

"I wasn't going to stand there and let him call you trash, Meta Knight!"

"But he _didn't_. He just—"

Kirby yawned and stepped into the kitchen. Time seemed to halt. Dedede paused, evidently halfway to pouring a glass of orange juice, Bandanna Dee, spatula in hand, stood still, and Meta Knight, perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, cut off whatever he'd been going to say and stared at Kirby. "Did we wake you?" Meta Knight finally asked.

"No," Kirby said. "It was the smell of pancakes, actually."

"Not just any pancakes," Bandanna Dee said, turning to the sizzling pan. "_Chocolate _pancakes. If you feel like eating, Kirby."

"Yes, how are you feeling this morning?" Meta Knight asked.

"Better," Kirby said. "Maybe a little dizzy."

"But that could be something as simple as low blood sugar," Meta Knight noted. "Do you think you need to go to the clinic? We could check your temperature; you look a bit pale."

"Oh, for NOVA's sake, you're not his mother!" exclaimed Dedede. "He's probably just caught a bug! We'll get him some vitamin C, and he'll be fine! You worry too much."

"And you worry too little," Meta Knight retorted.

"You are being especially insolent today. You know that?" asked Dedede.

Kirby had the uncomfortable feeling that he'd stumbled into some uncharted territory. "Apologies, my Lord. Should I leave so as not to vex you so?" Meta Knight asked. "I am, after all, your humble servant."

Dedede set a glass of juice on the counter, with far more force than necessary. "Don't you _dare_, Meta Knight!" he exclaimed. "I have _never _treated you like that!"

"No? That's exactly how you treated me last night. Like I'm a pretty bauble to show off to your friends."

Bandanna Dee caught Kirby's gaze and mouthed _don't worry. _"Is that what you think, Meta Knight?" asked Dedede. "I know you're brilliant, but sometimes, you are _so _stupid. He said _commoners that don't know their place_, and he looked right at you, when he said it, and he was right. You _don't _know your place, but that doesn't mean you're trash or unworthy. And you won't admit it, but he needed to be knocked down a peg or two. He goes on and on about how _improper and stupid_ I am for having a commoner as my bodyguard, and I _chose _you. I'm not going to sit around and watch him tear us both down because he has some sort of old-fashioned perspective about what his blood means. As nobility and as a _knight_, he has a duty to protect those beneath him. A _good _knight would see that you're good and noble and skilled and support you!"

"Are you quite finished?" inquired Meta Knight.

Dedede narrowed his eyes. "I humiliated him in front of the entire court," Meta Knight said, "Because you couldn't let an insult go. My problem isn't that you wanted to prove him wrong or express your opinion. It's that you chose to do it by declaring I would pummel him so badly that he'd never be able to erase the stain on his honor—"

"What I said was a little more colorful," Dedede muttered.

Meta Knight crossed his arms. "Meta Knight," Bandanna Dee said gently. "You're being too harsh. Maybe Dedede was wrong—don't look at me like that, Dedede. I'll get to you in a moment."

Bandanna Dee waved his spatula threateningly. "Meta Knight," Bandanna Dee continued, "Dedede is very proud of your skills and how hard you train, and when someone insulted you, even indirectly, over something as petty as your heritage, it made him angry. So he didn't think. And to be honest, I probably would've done that same thing. Your problem isn't that you don't know your place; it's that you know it too well. You're his bodyguard, but you're also our friend. We'll fight your battles with you, and if it means we have to break some rules, that's okay. We both know that Dedede had good intentions, and he'd never upset you on purpose."

Meta Knight slowly nodded. "You're right. Maybe I…maybe I was too harsh," Meta Knight said haltingly. "I'm sorry."

"Ah, Meta Knight. Reasonable as always," Bandanna Dee said, before turning to Dedede. "And _you _need to remember that your actions have consequences. That's what Meta Knight is getting at. You've turned what could've been a simple, private duel into a media frenzy. Meta Knight will be lucky if _he _doesn't need protection getting to class, with all the reporters that keep calling and trying to sneak in the dorms. You should've been more discreet, if you wanted to teach Sir Sword a lesson. _And _you should've asked Meta Knight before you just volunteered him to beat someone to a pulp. You put him in a situation where he couldn't win, no matter what he did. Meta Knight deserves better than that, and so do you."

Dedede's shoulders slumped. "Sorry, Meta Knight," he muttered. "I just…I lost my temper, and I mean, I _knew _you'd win. I know you're great with a sword, and I just wanted to prove it."

Meta Knight's expression softened, all evidence of icy fury melting away. "It's fine," Meta Knight said quietly. "I guess…I guess I overreacted a bit."

"And I'm sorry that my father blamed you for it," Dedede added. "You didn't deserve that."

"He's not very pleased with you either," Meta Knight said.

"Yeah, but he didn't _scream _at me. He hates you so much," Dedede said, with a halfhearted laugh.

"He _hates _you?" Kirby asked Meta Knight.

Meta Knight shrugged and smiled faintly. "I'm fairly certain Dedede's father thought I was just a phase and that Dedede would get tired of me, after a month or so," said Meta Knight.

"As if I'd _ever _want rid of my favoritest, most glorious knight!" Dedede joked, raising his glass in a mock-toast. "It's your fault, for being so utterly charming, Mety!"

"And since you're both being _so _mature about this," Bandanna Dee said. "I'll bestow upon you the world's _best _pancakes. Of course, Kirby gets some, too, since he had to witness this scene."

Dedede rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously. "Yes, sorry, Kirby," Meta Knight said, shifting awkwardly. "We had…a disagreement."

Bandanna Dee placed plates full of pancakes on the counter and winked at Kirby. "_Actually_," Bandanna Dee said, "Sir Sword said something stupid, so Dedede declared that his bodyguard could beat Sir Sword in a duel. Meta Knight defeated both Sir Sword _and _Sir Blade, before the _entire _royal court. It's been on the news all morning."

Kirby gaped at Meta Knight, who seemed to return his gaze, but with the sunglasses it was hard to tell. "_How_?" Kirby asked. "_No one _has _ever _beaten Sir Sword or Sir Blade! You must be like...like the greatest warrior in the galaxy!"

Meta Knight ducked his head and chuckled. "Now I'm not _that _good," he answered.

"You're as good as Bandanna Dee's cooking!" Dedede proclaimed, seeming to have returned to his normal, joyful self.

"I'm as good as chocolate pancakes?" asked Meta Knight.

"Sure. As good as Dee's cooking is, that's a _huge _compliment. Kirby agrees with me," Dedede stated.

After a single bite, Kirby certainly _did_. _NOVA_ couldn't wish up better food.

* * *

><p>After breakfast, everyone went their separate ways. Bandanna Dee needed to cram for a final in Classical Dreamland Architecture, Meta Knight had an advanced calculus class, and Dedede firmly declared that he was tired and going to hang around the apartment all day. This left Kirby; he was still a little dizzy and running a little warm—Meta Knight had <em>insisted <em>that Kirby check his temperature, but overall, Kirby thought he'd be fine. So Kirby decided to go to his classes and simply leave if he began feeling worse.

It was a good day to walk to class. The weather was warm, with the slightest, playful breeze, and the sun shined cheerfully in the sky. It was one of those days where Kirby remembered that the world was _beautiful_. With a light heart, he stepped into the building directly across from the visual arts building; it was the glass-blowing shop and marked by the half-dozen glass paperweights that someone had placed in the nearby bushes.

The glass-blowing classes were taught by the sisters, Drawcia and Claycia, who also taught painting and sculpture respectively. Their third sister, Paintra, taught drawing. Kirby's class was taught by Drawcia, who had aqua hair and a fondness for large, eccentric hats. Sometimes, she painted with her students and liked to go on long monologues about how amazing it would be if the world was like a painting. Some students talked about how weird she was and whispered that she was probably a witch. Kirby didn't care; Drawcia was so passionate about painting that it was infectious. It made him want to paint or blow glass, and that was the important thing, in his mind.

The glass shop smelled like fire and starlight—if starlight had a smell, which Kirby insisted it did. He was early, and Professor Drawcia was the only other person present. That day, she wore a tall, purple hat with a wide brim. Kirby thought she could probably hide a lot of things in there—like a cake or maybe a bunch of paintbrushes, since she was an artist. She looked up from a cherry-red bowl and smiled. "Good morning, Kirby," she said.

"Good morning, Professor!"

Drawcia frowned. "You look very pale. Are you feeling alright?" she asked.

Kirby laughed and self-consciously touched his face, as if to check his temperature. "Yeah, I'm just a little sick. Meta Knight took my temperature this morning; I'm just a little warm, but it's not like an emergency or anything."

"If you're certain," Drawcia said, "But if you begin feeling unwell, let me know. There's no need to tough this out."

Kirby nodded and forced a smile. "I really am fine!"

Drawcia smiled indulgently. "Well, I'm glad. It's going to be a fun class today," she said. "I'm going to show you how a _master _does it."

The rest of the class filed in, and Kirby still felt mostly fine. A bit lonely, though. He didn't really have any friends in that particular class, but it was always fun anyway. Professor Drawcia just made it too much fun. "Okay, everyone gather around!" she called.

They did, and before long, Drawcia was caneworking, with long tubes of colored glass. It was amazing to watch and to think of how _hot _molten glass was. The notion made Kirby unsteady on his feet. The glass was the brightest orange he'd ever seen, and Kirby felt an odd sort of push inside him.

_Snap._

Dracia shrieked and jumped back, at a sudden burst of flame. The class scrambled back with her, as the fire alarms blared, and the sprinklers went off. "Everyone! Grab your things and go to the front of the building!" Dracia yelled. "Hurry up!"

Kirby stood still, heedless of the water rushing down. He was warm, _so _warm, and something hot and foreboding twisted in his stomach. _I did that, _he thought.

It was completely illogical. He couldn't _have_, but he'd felt…everything inside Kirby seemed to spiral apart. "Kirby!"

Drawcia put a hand on his shoulder and steered him away. "Come on! We're getting soaked!"

"But I—I just…"

_I did that._

"You didn't do anything! My lighter exploded. It happens. Come on!"

Drawcia guided Kirby out. It was difficult because he was unsteady and nauseous. He thought he might vomit or faint—or maybe both, and he didn't know why. And—

_How did I do that?_

When they reached the front of the building, Drawcia helped him sit on the grass. "Stay here, and take deep breaths," she instructed.

Then, Drawcia went about and checked to ensure everyone was safe. "Okay, everyone! If you've gotten all your things, go back to your dorms! Class is done for today!"

Kirby didn't move. His head spun, while he watched Drawcia. She called maintenance and the fire department, pacing and gesturing while she spoke to them. At some point, she seemed to realize Kirby was still there, and she went to sit by him. "It's okay," she said. "Accidents happen. I think we really have to blame whoever put in that over-sensitive alarm. I mean, that was _nothing_, and it just drenched us all!"

Drawcia laughed and removed her sodden hat. She raked her fingers through her long, wet hair. "But I…I think I…" Kirby trailed off pathetically.

His professor smiled sympathetically. "And you're not feeling well. Why don't we have on of your friends take you back to the dorms? Do you have anyone that can come?"

Kirby hesitated. "I have…I don't think I have anyone's number," he confessed.

Kirby swallowed thickly and clenched his hands together; he was shaking badly. He was starting to see spots, too. "I just…"

Something twisted in his stomach, like before Drawcia's lighter exploded. _No, don't! _Kirby thought.

He heard Drawcia pull out her phone again and type in a number. "Hello, this is Dr. Drawcia from the visual—"

And Kirby fainted.

* * *

><p>It was a strange day for Meta Knight. Halfway through his calculus lecture, one of the frantic receptionists burst into the classroom and informed Meta Knight that his partner had been in a terrible accident, and someone was on the phone to talk to him. This was baffling, as Meta Knight had <em>never <em>been in a committed relationship, and people rarely called for him. It was probably just Dedede playing a trick or a reporter; he'd already had one call his cell phone.

Annoyed, he took the phone the receptionist offered. "Hello?" he asked.

"Hello, Meta Knight. Kirby isn't doing well. Why don't you come and get him, hm? We're at the glass shop."

Then, she hung up. Meta Knight hadn't recognized the voice, but he didn't like the woman's tone. It was the sort of tone that indicated she knew _far _more than she was saying. That meant proper precautions needed to be taken. Meta Knight dropped by the dorm to retrieve Galaxia, grateful that Dedede didn't seem to be around. It would be awkward to explain why Meta Knight needed a sword—and _that specific _sword—in the middle of the day.

The familiar weight of Galaxia across his back was comforting, and dimly, he could feel the sword's presence in the back of his mind. It was a quick walk to the glass shop, and he found Kirby, clearly unconscious, laying on the grass. Nearby, there sat a woman. The air around her seemed to hum, so Meta Knight slowed his pace. He knew a witch, when he saw one.

Carefully, Meta Knight crouched beside Kirby and checked his pulse. Fine. Kirby was warm, but he'd been warm that morning, too. The woman watched; she was close enough to touch. "What happened to him?" Meta Knight asked.

"Oh, he fainted."

"And you didn't call the ambulance?" inquired Meta Knight.

"I don't think that will help the situation. Do you?"

So she suspected something magical, and she either suspected or knew that Meta Knight, himself, had powers. "I don't know. I'm not a doctor," Meta Knight said.

He was really fishing for information and waiting to see if the witch would take the bait. Or offer some advice. Meta Knight really _didn't _know what to do, if whatever ailed Kirby was magical. Meta Knight's magic came in dreams and occasionally with Galaxia's aid. He, himself, had never been that great with spells or enchantments. "But you're good at caring for people. I wonder if that's because no one was ever around to care for you," she said.

Meta Knight tensed and looked over Kirby again. "What did you do to him?" he asked.

"Nothing. But don't play coy—not with me. We both know what you are, Bearer of Galaxia."

Reflexively, Meta Knight touched the hilt of the blade. "You needn't worry. I won't harm you," the woman said.

"Forgive me, if I don't believe you. You seem to know a lot about me."

"Indeed. There's little that I don't know about you, Meta Knight. That hardly means I'm out to destroy you."

Meta Knight laughed. "I've met someone, who knew more about me than he should've. It didn't work out."

"Oh, yes, Marx."

She raised a hand and stroked the side of Meta Knight's face. He flinched and tried not to shiver. "You're too young to be so well-acquainted with suffering," she said. "They say that the eyes are the window to the soul. Is that why you hide yours? Why you don't tell your friends what you are? It doesn't matter what they've heard. They love you. They'd accept you."

"I don't have any friends."

"No? You don't think Dedede is your friend? Or Bandanna Dee? Or even Kirby?"

Meta Knight tilted his head back, and Drawcia dropped her hand into her lap. "What happened to Kirby?"

"You're avoiding my question," the woman said.

"Kirby is unconscious," Meta Knight said flatly. "I'm here to help him—not to be psycho-analyzed."

"Because you don't like psychologists either, right?"

"Who are you?" Meta Knight asked.

"Drawcia. An art teacher, among other things. It is my duty to look after my students' best interests, and I think you should take Kirby back to his dorm and help him."

"Help him how? I can't _do _anything. You should know that."

"You underestimate yourself, Meta Knight. You assume that your dreams are magical in nature, and that's the end of it. Foolish boy, you are more powerful than you can possibly know."

"Well, why can't you take care of him yourself? Why send Kirby off with someone that doesn't know what to do?"

Drawcia smiled. "Think very carefully about that. Would you like me to take care of Kirby?" she asked.

Meta Knight hesitated. "No," he admitted.

"Good. Now, if you know your legends—and I know you do—you probably remember reading about the copy ability, yes?"

Meta Knight nodded. "It seems that Kirby has this, and he's, perhaps, absorbed a power that is too much for him, and you should look into that, by the way. Maybe check Kirby's phone, email—"

"You know where it came from," Meta Knight stated.

"Of course, but that's classified."

"Classified?"

Drawcia smiled. "You're clever. I know you'll figure it out. Now, Kirby should be fine, if he absorbs another ability—one that is more, benign, shall we say."

Meta Knight stared at Drawcia for a long second. He thought he knew what to do. "I still don't trust you," Meta Knight said.

"I didn't expect you to," Drawcia said, standing. "Good luck, Meta Knight."

And she left without another word.

* * *

><p>Meta Knight stared at his hands for a long time. Kirby was still unconscious, and he'd grown warmer. He <em>really <em>needed a doctor, and Meta Knight's every survival instinct was telling him to call a professional and forget everything the witch had told him. Still, Meta Knight thought he'd figured it out, but…there were reasons he didn't like people touching him. Sometimes, Meta Knight gave people his nightmares. It was only certain people, and Meta Knight had a feeling that Kirby would be one of them.

In truth, Kirby might rather struggle through his fever than deal with what touching _Meta Knight _might do to him, but Kirby didn't look well at all; he shivered beneath a mound of blankets, and his sweat-drenched skin looked clammy. Meta Knight sighed and clasped Kirby's hands. There was a painful jolt, which Meta Knight assumed meant it'd worked.

Meta Knight stood, considering. He liked his privacy and respected everyone else's. But if there was someone on campus so powerful, Meta Knight _did _need to know, for Kirby's sake, at least. And something dark was coming. Meta Knight didn't know exactly what shape it would take, but he felt it in the air and in Galaxia's uneasiness. Meta Knight knew Kirby's phone had been in his jacket; it'd fallen out, when Meta Knight had more-or-less heaved Kirby into his bed.

Meta Knight had set the phone aside and hadn't paid much mind to it, but Drawcia had said to check Kirby's phone. He picked it up and opened the contacts. There were very few, and Meta Knight made a mental note to offer Kirby his number later.

_Magolor._

When had Kirby met Magolor? Meta Knight wondered if he'd been wrong to trust Kirby and if he'd read the situation wrong. But Kirby seemed so kind and genuine! Surely, Meta Knight would've noticed, if Kirby was faking it all. _But I trusted Marx and Magolor, too, didn't I?_

And he'd paid _dearly _for that. He had scars on his back to _prove _how wrong he'd been. Meta Knight dialed the number and waited; he kept his gaze on Kirby. Meta Knight would never admit how much it'd hurt when Magolor and Marx betrayed him. Especially Magolor. It was obvious to everyone that there was something off about Marx, but Meta Knight had _liked _Magolor. Meta Knight liked to think that he'd been young and naïve, and that's why he'd ever thought of Magolor as a friend.

And Meta Knight wasn't naïve anymore. "Hello! This is Magolor!"

His voice was as deceptively cheerful as Meta Knight remembered. "Hello? Who is this?" Magolor asked.

"What are you playing at?" Meta Knight asked.

There was a long pause. "Meta Knight."

"So I can think of two possibilities here. Either you've sent someone to spy on me, or you've hurt one of my classmates. Neither of which makes me very happy."

"Nice to hear from you, too."

"I'm not playing, Magolor."

Magolor sighed. "You assume that I'd go through such efforts to either watch you or hurt you. Meta Knight, I barely know Kirby. We've spoken once."

"He has your number in his phone."

"And you've never given out your phone number to someone you thought was kind of cute?" asked Magolor.

Meta Knight hadn't, but he wasn't going to admit that. "How did you know this was about Kirby?" Meta Knight asked.

"Kirby's friend mentioned _Meta_. I assumed that was you; your name isn't exactly common."

_That _was certainly true. "Anyway," Magolor continued. "I think we should meet at the theater. I'm assuming you attend university here? There's something here that will probably answer your questions."

"And is Marx coming along for this venture?"

"I haven't spoken to Marx in months, Meta Knight. But you're welcome to bring whoever you like. I just think we should meet. There are some things you can't discuss over the phone. See you in five minutes?"

"Make it tomorrow night."

"Sure, if you like. See you, then!"

Magolor hung up, and Meta Knight sighed. "Sleep well, Kirby," Meta Knight muttered.

Then, Meta Knight moved to the too-small living room of Kirby's dorm and tried to figure everything out. It was going to be a very long night.

* * *

><p>AN: And plot! As always, thanks to everyone for your kind words and reading. I've gotten back on track, so we'll cross our fingers and see how long that lasts! Many Thanks!


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